Dear Mr Lennon
by rubberevolveroad64
Summary: Sixteen year old Ella Locken, lives a troubled life. She's a huge John Lennon fan, who decides to write him a letter, and send it. Ella doesn't expect John to read it, but what will happen when he does? Story's better then the summary! Not ATU
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello readers! This is the first fanfiction that I've published. I'd really love to hear what you think so please review. Now onto the reading!**

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

It had taken two hours, and many sheets of paper, but I finally wrote the letter. Why was I spending so much time on writing a letter that not one soul (especially the soul intended) would see? There wasn't an easy answer to that.

Of course I never expected him to read it. I may be young, but I'm not stupid. I mean, he was dead fifteen years before I was even born! At first, the letter was just a fan tribute for what would've been, his seventy-second birthday, but after a couple entries, it turned into something, more deep, and meaningful. In the end, I was satisfied with what I wrote.

Actually, I was actually so pleased with it, that if I had the opportunity, I would've send it. That was disappointing part of writing a piece I enjoyed, not being able to share it with the person that it was meant for. I put my letter in a crisp clean white envelope, licked the sticky side, and sealed it up. I looked at the letter glumly for a moment. I didn't find this fair. Some of his biggest fans didn't get to save up a months allowance to buy his new album, didn't get to eagerly wait by the television for hours to here him be interviewed, and never got to talk to there friends about how great his music is, or in my case get to send him a letter that I wrote with all my heart.

The more I thought about what fans of today didn't get to experience, the more I realized how much I really did want to send this letter. Why should I let the line between life, and death stop me from letting my message be heard? What harm would mailing it do? Worse thing that could happen, was giving the mailman in Timbuktu a laugh. But deep down inside there was a hope that he would receive it, which eventually made me scrawl out on the front:

Mr. Lennon

The Afterlife

I was about to take it to the mailbox when I realized what I was doing. I let out a small chuckle at my foolish behavior. Sending a letter to a man whose been dead for over thirty years, to a mailing address as just "The Afterlife." Thinking that the John Lennon would read my letter. Yeah right! I rolled my eyes, ready to tear up the letter. But as I looked down, I bit my lip.

Why not, I already wrote the thing, right? I looked down at the envelope, and after hesitating for a moment, I scribbled down in the left-hand corner my address. Might as well make it look real. I grabbed a sheet of stamps from the cupboard. Making sure no one was looking I stuck three stamps on the right side of the envelope.

Feeling very dumb, I walked down my drive way, and plopped the letter in the mailbox. I was about to put up the metal, red, rusty flag up, when my mother came over from raking the leaves.

"Ella, I can't believe there's already leaves on the ground in late September!" Mom complained, wiping the sweat from her forehead. I nodded in agreement. "I see you're finally done with the letter." She said. "Finally is right!" I sighed. "Well grandma's going to be so happy when she arrives in Florida, to see your letter." Mom said. I told my mom earlier that I was going to be writing a letter to my grandma who just went to her second home in Florida, which I had done, before I wrote John's letter.

"That's the payoff." I cheered, somewhat sarcastically. My mom didn't notice, she just went back to raking, like she always did. Never noticing what's really going on.

I put the flag on the mailbox up, and turned to walk back inside. I was mid-step when I heard a somewhat loud, "Whoooosh," coming from the mailbox. My mom looked up quickly, but not quickly enough to see what I did, the letter flying straight up into the air like an airplane.

* * *

**AN: *Gasp* a cliff hanger! I hope you liked it! You can tell me what you think in a handy dandy review! **

**Peace and Love- RRR**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: And, we're back with chapter two! Thank you for the lovely reviews! The plot of the story is going to unfold in the next few chapters, so I hope it doesn't seem like rushing. Now to the reading, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter: 2**

The Counsel was really getting on my fucking nerves. Floating around with their pansy wings on, thinking that they have say on every action that goes on here. Damn controlling little pixies. They choose where we lived, what we did, and how we did it. Oh, and you don't disobey The Counsel either, believe me I've tried. They pick the worst punishments, specially selected for the person. Mine, was living six months without my guitars, I couldn't even poof any up.

Now don't get me wrong, it's not that bad being dead, besides the whole well… dying thing an all. Actually, you get to do a lot more things then you do on Earth, despite The Counsel. Firstly, you got to just kind of 'poof' things up, like guitars, cornflakes, and albums whenever you wanted. Another one was that, everyone treated each other alright up hear, and were all equal, which I was relieved about. Then of coarse, you get to see people who you never thought you would see again, like Julia, Stu, and recently, my old pal George Harrison, joined me up here. Lastly, you got to spy on people whenever you wanted to.

I walked out of my flat, whistling Imagine, as I went to go get the mourning paper, about what bloody awful thing The Counsel was doing today. I reached down to grab the news, when I noticed an envelope sitting next to it. I picked it up, examining it. I found my glasses in my pocket, and put them on. I read the jumbled writing on the letter, and couldn't help but laugh when I saw the mailing address.

The letter was sent from an Ellen Locken. I couldn't believe it when it said that she was living the United States, mostly the LIVING part. How could the letter have gotten here? Was this some kind of joke George was playing on me? I wouldn't know unless I read it.

**The Letter:**

Dear Mr. Lennon,

Hi, my name is Ella Locken, and I'm a big fan. I know you probably received hundreds of these type of letters everyday, but I hope this one is special. I would like to say first of all, happy seventy-seconded birthday. I'm so sorry you can't be here to celebrate it. You've inspired millions, with your messages of peace and love, but most importantly, you inspired me. You've made me see the light at the end of the tunnel, that even after living through hell, that you can still make your life something meaningful, and make it big. Mr. Lennon, you made me realize that I'm not the only one, that we can stand up for what we believe in, and take the first step toward change. I'm not only sorry for you, but for the people who couldn't see these things you have shown me, simply because they were born in the wrong decade. I would gladly give my life for you to be able to show these poor, hungry, ailing, people out in the world that life can change, no matter who you are. I hope that they will see someway.

Happy Birthday

Love, Ella

* * *

I stared at the letter open-mouthed. I couldn't believe that I, had so much impact on one person. She, obviously knew what she wanted, and wouldn't be afraid to hurt a few feelings on her way to getting it, and I loved it. I needed to see who she is. I looked up, and wondered if I had time to go down to the river. No, I needed to get to work. Tomorrow, tomorrow I'll find out about Ella Locken, and the letter.

**AN: So what do you think? What should happen between Ella, and John? You can tell me in the ever so usefull, and delightfull REVIEW!**

**Enjoy your week**

**Peace, and Love**

**-RRR**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Good mourning/afternoon/evening, everyone! I'm going to update this story at least once a week, unless I'm really busy. The story is going to pick up the pace starting here. Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed. The reviews are so lovely , and they always brighten my day, so thanks! Enough drabble from me, here's chapter 3! Oh that rymed!**

**Chapter 3:**

"Ella get your ass up it's 12:30!" A familiar voice broke through my dreamy haze. Chuck. What was he doing at the house? "Leave me alone it's Saturday!" I called back. My bedroom door creaked open, Chuck's large head poked through the doorway, "I just wanted to notify you," Chuck started, grinning wickedly, " That I finally convinced your 'need to please' mother to let me move in." No, no, no! This can't be happening, how could she, after promising he'd never move in?

As if reading my thoughts, Chuck added, " That's right enjoy your last day as the apple of mommy's eyes, because as soon as I unpack my last box, that's going to change." It was so obvious he was just using my mom, how could she not see it? He glanced around my bedroom, "Yes this looks like a great room to entertain my friends in." His stupid grin grew wider. I just wanted to hit him. "I could do anything." He said softly. His beady eyes fixed on me, "Like this." I was still to shocked to dodge out of the way when Chuck grabbed the collar of my shirt with one hand, and pulled me off of my bed. His other monkey like hand pervertidly started to stroke my neck. "GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS OFF OF ME YOU BIG GOON!" I shouted. Where was my mom?

I tried to squirm away from his hold, but he just gripped my shirt tighter. I kept slapping him away, as much as I could, but it made no difference. "HELP!" I screamed. Chuck let out a sinister laugh. " Your precious mother isn't going to save you this time, little girl." He leaned down, and planted a slobbery kiss on the side of mouth. As he pulled away I slapped him with as much power as I could muster. So much so that my hand stung after.

"Ow you little bitch!" Chuck bellowed. He grabbed hold of my shoulders, and shoved me against the wall. Tears started to well up in my eyes, as he started to pull off my pajamas. He forced me too the floor. " Please stop I'll do anything you want." I begged. "Oh, but this is what I want Ella." Chuck announced. He pulled my underwear off. Chuck stared at me for a moment, before he undid the zipper on his pants. There was nothing I could do, but wait.

After Chuck was done, he stood up, and buttoned his fly. "Let me make this clear," Chuck raged, grabbing my chin hard, so I had to look him in the evil snake like eyes. " Tell ANYONE about this, and I'll kill you." He pushed me down, and slammed the door as he left. I lay, defeated in the fetal position, as I tried to put my thoughts together.

I always knew my mom's boyfriend was a horrible person, but not to the extent to rape, and more important MURDER! There was no way I could tell anybody, without Chuck knowing, especially my mom. But if I did tell her, would she even believe me? She never believed any of the things that Chuck had done before, like breaking my Sgt. Pepper's CD, stealing from her purse, or even hitting me, even when there was always obvious evidence! But now he's moving in, and who knows what he'll do. He could very well rape me again, or even just kill me for the hell of it. Or worse my mom.

An overwhelming sadness washed over me. My eyes started to sting with tears, that I try to hold back, but to no avail. Wet drops of water pool on my bare skin like warm rain. I stayed like that for a long time, until I heard a loud "WHOOOOOOOSH" behind me.

**AN: This chapter, was a bit disturbing to write. As always I'd love to hear what you think, and what could be better in the story!**

**P.S I know this is late, but did you guys celebrate Paul, and Ringo's birthdays? **

**Peace, and Love-**

**RRR**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I wasn't going to update until Monday, but you guys inspired me. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for all the positive reviews! By the way, remember to watch the Summer Olympics tonight, because Paul's going to play the opening, wooooo!**

**Chapter 4**

Working was pretty easy. George, and I had to go down to the Counsel's Music Hall every other week, to see what direction music's going in. From what I can see, it's only going in One Direction, and they're horrible. We just had to listen to a few songs, but somehow The Counsel stretched it into four hours.

All throughout the day, I kept thinking of the letter. Was it some joke George, and Stu were playing on me? At lunch, I decided to talk to George about it. We sat at an empty table in the cafeteria. I saw a lot of people pass by our table, like Mama Cass, Elvis Presley, and Buddy Holly, who I've started a few conversations with, before. "Hey George." I said opening up my lunch sack. "Hmm?" He hummed into his jam-buttie. "Have you gotten any mail?" I asked. George smiled his big toothy grin, "Lots John, why?" He asked. " No, I mean have you gotten any… uh recently?" I asked looking down. " Can't say that I have." He replied, with a hint of amusement in his voice. " Can you tell me, anything about this?" I interrogated, handing him the letter. George unfolded it, and started reading.

" Is it from someone here?" George asked, after he finished . " So you didn't send it?" I reasoned. "No why would I do that?" " Well, I don't know, you always seem to be stirring up trouble Georgie boy." I replied, and ruffled his hair. George smoothed out his shaggy fringe, and questioned, " So where did the return label say it was from?" " The United States." I said simply. George nearly choked on his sandwich. " Does that mean," He started quietly, " She's… living." The last word was spoke at a whisper. " That's what I'm going to find out."

After two more hours of torture, work was finally over. " I'll catch up with you later, George." I called out to him. The River, is the place, where people go to see, the living, like to see what relatives are up to, or to see how old friends are doing. I hadn't been there, for quite some time. I found it depressing, to watch all the people you love, get old, and wrinkly. The River is about a twenty minute walk from The Music Hall. When you first arrive, there's one of those machines where you pick a number. Then you wait a while, until you're number's called from the loud speaker. It's always pretty busy at The River, but there's many spots, so you usually don't have to wait long until you're called.

"_Number 12789, number 12789 you're at space 9137." _That's my number. I walked along the long rows of compartments that greatly resemble photo booths, until I got to 9137. I stepped through the maroon curtain, and sat on the small wooden bench. I typed in the address from the letter, on the little keypad. I couldn't help smiling. This was starting to feel a little like an adventure. But my smile quickly faded away after what I saw next.

" _Tell ANYONE about this, and I'll kill you." _A very large man yelled. He roughly pushed down a girl, who didn't look older then fifteen. Was this Ella? She had bruises everywhere. What had this prick done to her? Then, ever so softly, you could hear her start to cry. I stared in horror at the screen. I couldn't just sit here, and watch the poor girl cry, or worse. What if that large bloke, came back agian? I had to do something, but what? I looked around the compartment. I scanned the space up, and down, until I spotted a piece of paper someone left on the floor. I took out a pen, I'd had in my pocket, and pondered on what to write.

What am I supposed to say, to the girl? Should I warn her, to hide somewhere? Should I try to comfort her? What will she think of getting a letter from someone whose been dead, for quite a long time? I had to think fast. After a minute or two, I just threw all doubts I had away, and just started writing down what ever sounded good in my head. After a couple minutes, I was done. I proof read my letter. It looked okay for a three-minute draft.

Now came the hard part. How am I suppose to send it? I didn't have a proper envelope, and I sure as hell didn't have a book of stamps. This will never work. But I had to try, no matter how stupid it looked. "Well, here goes nothing." I muttered to myself. I through the letter up in the air. I watched, half expecting it to drop to the floor, half hoping it would deliver itself, but I was still pretty surprised, when the note shot straight through the screen with a loud " WHOOOOOSH!" and landed on the girl's floor.

**AN: I've got a thing for cliff hangers, you see. Anyway, did you guys watch Paul perform at The Queens Diamond Jubilee, or at The Grammy's? If you didn't, watch it on Youtube, he was great!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hi everyone! Alright so I've got a question to ask, do you guys enjoy the John chapters, or do you think I should just do chapters from Ella's point of view? Feedback is greatly appreciated! Anyway, here's chapter 5!**

**Chapter 5**

I woke up in a daze in my dark room, wondering why I was so sore, achy, and on my floor. I opened my eyes, and it all came back to me. I had been raped. Not just raped, but by my mothers boyfriend Chuck, who was going to be at the house now, 24/7. I had no doubt in my mind that if he found out I told someone he'd kill me. I thought of everyone I could possibly tell, and what the chances were of him finding out about it. My teachers, would probably just call home, calling the police was way to risky, and there was no way in hell that I could ever tell my own mother.

It was all clear now about Chuck's intentions. He wasn't just using my mom, no he was going for every penny that she's worth, and I was the only obstacle in his way, constantly telling my mother to break up with him, now he's got me in a place where there's no way I'll ever be talking about him to my mother again.

I sobbed into my hands, there was no way I could tell anyone now, without him finding out. After a good few minutes of crying, I looked up at my clock. 5:47, I still had an hour before I had to start getting ready for Hell on Earth, or what some like to call school.

I slowly stood up, trying to ignore the burning in my thighs, and walked to my dresser. I picked out my red, white, and blue Beatles shirt, and jeans. I slipped on my clothes, and noticed a folded up piece of paper on the floor. I bent down to pick it up, and unfolded it. It looked like some sort of official document.

**The Council Rules Page 1**

**1. What The Council says will be followed, otherwise disciplinary actions will be put into play. If thou has a disagreement with the ruling you may request a meeting to asses your feelings, and wishes with the mighty Council. **

I read the whole front of the sheet, and I've got to say, this Council sure sound like real assholes. Who was this freaking Council anyway? The community? My school? My curiosity peeked, I flipped the page over, expecting to find more information about The Council, but instead I found slightly messy handwriting.

_Dear Ella(?), _

_Hello, my name is John Lennon, I know I'm supposed to be dead, and all that, and I'm not sure if you'll be receiving this either, but are you alright? And if you don't mind my asking who was that bastard that pushed you? If you are able to, please reply. _

_John Lennon_

After that incident at the mailbox a few days ago, I had tried convinced myself that it had just my imagination. I mean, how could it not be? My mom didn't even hear it, but then again, she barely notices anything that goes on around here. And there's no way a letter can fly. I had tried to forget about it, sending the letter was stupid anyway, but that proved to be a difficult task. I thought I had finally gone insane. I was actually surprised that it hadn't happened sooner though, what with Chuck's bullshit, and those relentless bitches at school, why it was enough to send anyone over the edge.

Now, with the arrival of this letter from "John Lennon," what was I supposed to think? There was no way it could be real. Probably just that damn Chuck trying to mess with me, to get me to tell. But what was that shit about the Council on the front? Well, there's only one way to find out. I tiptoed out to the kitchen, and grabbed a piece of paper, and a pencil. I sat at my desk in my room, and started to write. About ten or fifteen minutes later I was done. I chuckled at how my last letter took hours in comparison. I grabbed an envelope, and wrote down the "return address."

Mr. Lennon

The Afterlife

I walked out the front door, and proceeded to my mailbox. Mimicking what I did before, I quickly turned around, and sure enough there was that, "WHOOOOOOOSH!" I turned around to check the mailbox, and sure enough the letter was gone.

I went back inside, and found my mom sitting on the couch sipping coffee. " Oh hi Hun, you're up early today!" My mom said merrily. " Yeah." I replied trying to sound as happy as I could. " I didn't get a chance to talk to you yesterday, since you went to bed so early. You know, about Chuck moving in. Dear, I know you don't like him, but I thought you might him moving in might change your mind. Are you alright with it?" My mom asked hopefully. I plastered a fake smile to my face. "Always."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Long time no see! I know, there are no excuses for how long I've been gone. I promise I'll be updating on a regular basis now. My ambitions have been restored for this story. **

**P.S. This chapter is dedicated to Mrandmrsgharrison, who inspired me to finally get off my lazy ass!**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_John_

"Number 12,789 you have five minutes remaining." The voice above me said. That's the downside to The River. You're only allowed to have forty-five minutes each day. I sighed in frustration. She still needed to read my letter! _Come on wake up!_ I thought fiercely.

"Number 12,789 you have four minutes remaining."

My eyes flicker back to the screen where I see she's now finally woken up. _Yes!_ I zoom in a bit closer. She started to cry...hard, and I swear I feel my heart break a little.

"Number 12,789 you have three minutes remaining."

My blood starts boiling. "I FUCKING hear you!" I shout at the ceiling. "Now please shut the bloody hell up!" I know it was a daft thing say, but I couldn't help it. In times like this I really wish I could tell The Council that there are more important things than their rules and regulations. I return my focus back on the screen to see that she finally (thank god) stopped crying. Now she was walking toward the dresser, or more importantly my letter.

"Number 12,789 you have two minutes remaining."

I clench my fists and try not to say anything. _The important thing is that she's going to read my letter. _I remind myself. As she changes clothes, I turn away out of respect for her privacy, but when I hear the rustling of papers I snap back around.

"Number 12,789 you have one minute remaining."

_Come on Ella read fast! _I notice on the back of the paper I carelessly wrote on, is the page that has The Council Rules on it, and out of nowhere the biggest rule they have up here comes to mind. The rule is so elementary though, that they didn't even bother to put it on the sheet. That rule is: Under No Circumstances Are You Allowed to Talk to the Living. When you disobey that rule, they can issue you the highest punishment of all. I feel my stomach flip.

**I COULD BE KICKED OUT OF THE AFTERLIFE!**

"Number 12,789 you are out of time."

Just before the screen fades to black I see Ella reach for a pencil, and despite the newest revelation, I smile to myself. I guess all I can do now is wait.

* * *

_Ella_

As usual, the walk home was silent. For which I was thankful, as it gave me time to gather my thoughts, before having to go back home and face _him_. On second thought, after a brief run through of my thoughts and emotions, the silence was a curse. If nothing else, it put off my inevitable confrontation with Chuck, Brooke, or "John Lennon."

I suddenly find my thoughts steering back to my letter. Even if it is silly, I hope it makes it to the correct destination. After about five minutes or so, I notice it's no longer so quiet. That's weird because as usual, I'm half an hour late to avoid crossing paths with _her_.

I sneak a quick glance behind me and turn around so fast I swear I have whiplash. I quickened my pace. _Oh shit! Please let Brooke have not seen me!_ Just as I think that I'm in the clear I hear a very distinct cackle behind me. _I'm screwed._

"I can't believe I actually thought you were going to face me. How could I forget that you're a big coward?" She asks no one in particular. I break out into a run but it's no use, I've never been very athletic. Her "friends" Maria and Ashley catch up to me in a heartbeat.

"Hold her down!" Brooke snapped. Her mindless goons obliged and each grabbed one of my arms. "I told you last time, that the next time I saw you, you wouldn't be so lucky," She hissed, "And I meant it!" I tried to squirm away from Maria and Ashley but they held their vice like grip on my arms and laughed. Brooke grabbed the front of my shirt with her left hand and drew back a fist with her right.

Next thing I know she's punched me. Hard. Square in the nose. It takes all my strength not to cry out, but I can't let Brooke see me weak. I can't let her know she's winning. I feel the blood drip in my mouth, so I spit at her.

She scowls and wipes off her cheek. "So you want to play that way?" She laughs a cruel and bitter sound. "Fine," She stated, "I can play that way." Brooke pulls something out of her pocket. I gasp despite myself when I realize what it is.

She runs the dull side of the knife along my face. "Let's see how much more ugly you can be," She purrs, "All you need are some scars or maybe even holes." She maneuvers the blade so its tip is slightly pressing my abdomen.

"It'd be a real shame if I were to trip like th-"

**"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE!" **Someone shouts. I instantly recognize who the voice belongs to, but I can't believe it. I scurry away from Brooke, Maria, and Ashley as fast as I can.

But as I run one repeating thought haunts me; A dead man just saved my life.

* * *

**AN: Please tell me what you think in a review! Peace, Love, and Lennon!-RRR**


End file.
